


Dance

by emicha



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged up characters, Ambassador Katara (Avatar), F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Post-War, The No "I Love You" Challenge (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emicha/pseuds/emicha
Summary: They have danced before, but not like this.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 78
Collections: The No "I Love You" Challenge





	Dance

They have danced before; have moved together through ice and fire, sadness and pain. They have spun around the beat of etiquette and propriety, tiptoeing from lingering gazes to almost-touches for almost a year.

They have danced around each other for so long, always remaining at a graceful distance, but tonight she has finally washed up in his arms—only to run through his fingers by morning.

The erratic current of dancing figures shriek and laugh from alcohol and enjoyment all around them; the festival is pulsing with life, but she will always be gone too soon, so what is there to celebrate?

Trying to avoid their inevitable goodbyes for just a little longer, they drift slowly through the night.

Her hand rests steadily on his chest and his arm fits perfectly around her waist; dancing like this feels like belonging, like the beginning of an end.

Tonight, there is heat beneath their fingertips.

He is painfully sober, and the blush on her cheeks does not hail from sweet plum wine, either, but from something else, something neither of them dares to name quite yet. Nameless as it is, it makes letting go so much more painful.

The pearls in her dark hair reflect the fireworks in the sky. Spring has come but she will leave.

He gathers her into his arms, lifting her up, just as their dance demands. She smiles down at him; her deep blue eyes are the sky and the bottom of the sea at once and he cannot help but fall into them; drowning must be the path to heaven.

Her bright smile wanes when he gently returns her feet to the ground.

What use does heaven have if she is not there?

This girl – _ woman _ – has held his heart in her hands once, and even though the pain has long since faded, the feeling of her firm touch never has.

He knows it never will.

Searching each other’s eyes, their dance stops in anticipation of its mysterious next steps.

Should they push and pull away in tune to the tides?

Should they retreat to more secure beginnings and start this dance anew, like they always do?

Or should they dare create their own rhythm as they go?

He frowns down at the slim hands that are delicately resting in his. He intertwines his fingers with hers—he is drowning after all and the look on her face confirms that she must be, too. Her pulse quickens in tune to the beat of his heart, and they know what must come next—the words have been dancing around them for so long and now it is almost too late.

But once it is said, there is no going back—just leaving behind.

“I think I am utterly lost without you, Ambassador Katara.”

He has meant to say all those other words burning on his tongue, but they are far too many for such little time.

Understanding is warming her eyes. 

He bends down, brushing his lips against hers in silent invitation. There is room for her to pull back, to push away; she is the moon, and he is her spellbound ocean—but she does neither.

She closes what little distance is between them with a deep sigh.

They are drowning, and the waves come crashing down on them.

Most of their encounters have ended in rapidly rising steam, but tonight their dance is a slow one. They wade through the delicate motions of lips on lips, testing out these new waters.

They are fast learners, though.

They have outgrown their chaste touches and longing gazes by the time they have reached the lifeboat that is her room.

He picks the pearls from her hair skillfully; where there was noise before is now silence—after all this waiting there is no more time to waste.

She brushes the thin shirt off his broad shoulders, aching to feel his skin against hers.

When he lifts her up this time, she wraps her legs around his waist, pressing her body against the celestial scar on his chest.

She cannot help but think about the night when this man’s life has run through her hands and she knows her heart will never stop freezing at the thought of it.

What use has power when it cannot save a life?

She is painfully burning for his touch and knows the heat in his face was not kindled by bitter Baijiu, either.

Pulling away from the kisses caressing her skin, she looks into his dark amber eyes, seeing only herself in them.

“And I think I have been found, Fire Lord Zuko.”

There were other words she has meant to say whenever she imagined a night to end like this, but they are burning through what little time they have left now, so she returns her lips to where they are ultimately bound to be.

When he lowers her down this time, it is on the soft bed.

She brushes her hips against his in quiet invitation; he is the sun and she is mercifully kindling under his soft touch. She knows there will be no leaving tomorrow, not after tonight.

They have not danced like this before; they move through want and need and something else that is only just getting a proper name.

Dawn has come and gone, but they will stay.

Here in these tangled bedsheets, with his strong heartbeat beneath her fingertips and his arm around her waist, there is a sense of rightness, of belonging. She looks up at him and finds him looking back. They chuckle. 

This dance is only just beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this was quite short, but, as always, thank you so much for reading; feedback is greatly appreciated! ♡


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